Chilling
by ChaosandMayhem
Summary: Barty Crouch Jr. waits in a cold room for his punishment...with a smile on his face.


Hullo, all! This is my first foray into the fandom, so feedback is much appreciated!

Thanks to Nytd and Belphegor for the wonderful feedback and quick beta-work! You guys **_ROCK_**!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Barty Crouch Jr, (*scowls and pouts*), so on and so forth...**

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Bartemius Crouch Junior was going to die.

It was a gut feeling, an instinct that had been born in his time with the Death Eaters. He wasn't sure how it would occur, or when—but the subtle way his guard glanced to the door and his own heart that beat rapidly without cause told him.

He was going to die, even if that old fool McGonagall didn't know it. She stood above him with intense disgust gleaming in her sharp eyes; wand poised and at the ready, prepared to strike if he so much as twitched.

Not that Barty could have moved: the ropes binding him were far too tight and he was far too weak.

Silently he cursed himself. He had underestimated Dumbledore, had forgotten in his moment of jubilation to keep in character with Mad-Eye. Now he was going to pay the price for his folly.

Oh, there was no doubt in Barty's mind that he was going to die. Oh, no, none at all. The Ministry—in particular that soft idiot Cornelius Fudge—wouldn't want to keep an insane convict like him alive for long. Maybe long enough to squeeze a confession out of him, maybe, but there was no shadow of doubt in Barty's mind—he would be dead before breakfast.

Well…possibly lunch, if they insisted upon giving him a trial.

Barty flexed his fingers, wiggled his toes, noted with interest how pale he looked in the dim torchlight. His tongue flickered in and out of his mouth in what could have been annoyance.

"Do you suppose they'll be much longer?"

McGonagall jumped at Barty's voice. Her wand hadn't moved his face, however. "The Minister is on his way." Her tone was cold and Barty had expected it to be so.

"Hm." Barty nodded, as if McGonagall had just given him the time of day, "Suppose they were a bit surprised to hear from little ol' me again, eh?" A laugh, one that was short and barking, rattled his thin chest. A feral glimmer shone in his dark eyes. "Do you suppose that they'll believe me, hm? That my Master has risen again? Oh, no, I don't think so. Just the words of a loony, best not to listen to him! Best not to listen to that boy, no sir!"

She was uneasy now, the eyes once disgusted now uncertain. It gave Barty a private thrill to see such a woman of substance, a person of power, gaze at him with what could have been called fright. He cackled once. "Minerva…may I call you Minerva? It has been such a pleasure." He inclined his head towards the door, for he had heard what she had not: the voices of Fudge and Snape, one shouting, the other cold, both imbued with pulsating fury. McGonagall turned her head to the door.

But it was not the voices that made both prisoner and guard stiffen.

The temperature in the door had dropped twenty degrees as a chill swept over the room, an intense chill that sank through the flesh and blood and into the bone. Frost began to coat over the desk, the trunk, the Foe Glass.

A frightened moan escaped someone's lips, and it took a moment for Barty to realize that it had been his.

The Death Eater had clenched his fists, his dark eyes wide and frightened, his face pale, the façade of a murderer vanquished. "No," he whispered. "No, no, not them, not them, please, please, not them, no, no…" His breath quickened. "No, no, please, no, please…"

The voices of Snape and Fudge were getting louder as they neared the room. McGonagall cast Barty one derivative glance before deciding that he wasn't going to be much of a threat, half out of his mind with fear as he was.

She swept from the room, leaving Barty with his thoughts.

Barty had expected death, expected to be confronted with a crowd of Aurors, expected to be spat upon, expected anything but this.

Dementors.

He closed his eyes, swallowed hard. Being administered a Dementor's Kiss…Perhaps it wasn't as bad as they said? Perhaps…

No. No, he knew, he had seen the victims. It was every bit as bad as they said.

A shiver slid down his back in anticipation. He was now shaking so badly it was hard to concentrate.

Bright side. There had to be a bright side to all of this.

His Master was risen once more—that was definitely a plus.

And Barty Crouch Senior was dead.

His master was risen. His father was dead.

"Master is risen. My father is dead." He repeated it, once, twice, three times, until it became a mantra. Slowly, he began to calm. His heart stopped racing. "Master is risen, father is dead, Master is risen, father is dead…"

An insane smile broke out on his face as a hooded figure entered the room.

**.....**

McGonagall and Snape burst through the room at the same time.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Two sliver beings, a cat and something large with four legs—McGonagall didn't catch what it was—exploded from their wands in unison. They tackled the Dementor, driving it away from Barty Crouch Jr. and out of the room. The cloaked demon drifted from the room ominously as Fudge entered.

Snape lowered his wand. "It appears we are too late."

What was left of Barty Crouch was slumped against the wall, his fair-haired head resting against a chest that hardly stirred. He was still, he was silent—he was worse than dead.

Fudge was twirling his bowler hat around nervously. "He's gone, yes?"

"Indeed." Snape didn't turn as he answered.

McGonagall was silently shaking with fury only just kept in check. She knew that in a moment she'd be screaming herself hoarse, but for the moment it was the young Mr. Crouch she was considered with, not Fudge and his dementor. McGonagall bent down and gently lifted up Barty's face to the light. The eyes, alight with dark power just moments ago, were vacant and empty, devoid of life.

But a smile was still plastered to his face.

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**A/N:** Alright, this has the potential to be a long author's note, so feel free to skip it and head straight to the review option(:P). First off, this story is the result of an extremely late night reading _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ and watching the movie at the same time. Oh, yeah, I fell in love with Barty the Second too, but I don't suppose we need to go into detail about that...Anyways, one particular thing always bothered me: McGonagall's role in this. She was suppose to stand guard over Barty, but somehow the Dementor got past her to suck out his soul. Either she allowed to the Dementor a free pass(which is doubtful) or she was distracted at the time and couldn't perform the Patronus Charm. So, I went with the latter. *sighs* Okay, it's off my chest, I'm good, I'm satisfied, go back to your lives. :)

Thanks for reading!

Oh, and a final message: Mister David Tennant, if you ever happen to read this story, you are a fabulous actor(and not that bad-looking either). I'm not a rabid fangirl...however, should you ever be inclined to go out to lunch with me, I wouldn't be one to say 'no'. :D

~ChaosandMayhem


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